


it's just showbiz

by sunflower_8



Series: who we are [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Depression, Gender Dysphoria, Group Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I'm sorry it's so sad, Identity Crises, Implied/Mentioned Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Nightmares, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, In a way, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Smoking, Spoilers, Trans Character, drugs are mentioned too, i'm so sorry the relationships are a wreck, it'll be better later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 12:23:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_8/pseuds/sunflower_8
Summary: they're sacrificed to the past and the press(v3 has ended, but the aftershocks linger)





	it's just showbiz

_ where am i? _

he was in the backroom of the team danganronpa studio, he knows that. it was the first annual interview they did (after the monthly interviews, and the specials, and the paparazzi, and-) after danganronpa v3, which started exactly a year ago. shuichi saihara was initially confused as to why there were so many damn interviews, until he realized that danganronpa was  _ done _ . v3 was the end of the series, and they needed drama and views.

(they almost forced kaito and maki to get married for the camera. they obviously refused and got threatened by the staff. maki showed up at shuichi’s door crying only a few days later. according to kaede, kaito had an explosive episode later.)

shuichi was standing alone in the room, leaning against the wall with his hands over his face. nobody was ever really okay before, during, or after the cameras turned on. nobody was really okay ever, honestly. shuichi was never really certain the cameras turn off. 

he always had really bad breakdowns before the shoots, whether it was just pictures, or talking, or giving speeches, or watching someone else giving a speech. it was fucked up. and so he was in an empty room, shaking silently, and even though every noise sounded like it was faded and muffled, shuichi could hear someone opening the door and closing it. the beige shoes and green hair confirmed that rantaro amami had entered the room. he always found the others when they needed someone: his older brother instincts extended beyond a tv screen and two painful seasons.

rantaro moved to stand next to him, a patient expression on his face, and so shuichi started talking.

“i can’t do this anymore, rantaro, i can’t fucking do this-“

“shuichi, calm down.” he looked tired, so tired. there were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was paler than usual. there was a bleak, knowing look in his eye. after all, he’s done this many times before. “this... this is showbiz. just one more smile, then we can all go home.”

“‘home’ is the ward! or whatever they call that shit hole they give us for free, no food or meds included! but it’s not like they would tell the public that, would they?!” shuichi pulled at his hair, “i hate them, i  _ hate  _ them, i hate them and myself and  _ everything- _ ”

“shh...” at that moment, shuichi realized he was sobbing. he pressed his palms against his eyes and rantaro wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on top of shuichi’s and smiling sadly. “i know. i’m sorry. this... this will be over soon, yeah?”

“we have another thing next month.”

“i know.”

“and they’re going to push for maki and kaito to get married soon.” 

“...i know.”

“i’ll have to be the best man, watching and knowing that maki’s ‘tears of joy’ are just desperation, that the dad that walked her down the aisle is just an actor to hide the fact that they were too lazy to change all of her backstory.”

“...yeah.”

“it doesn’t end.”

“it doesn’t.”

“it won’t get easier.”

“shuichi-“

“i can’t do this. i don’t know who i am, and i keep thinking i’m disappointing someone but i don’t know who that someone is, and… and i don’t think smiling for the cameras should be  _ this _ hard to do. rantaro, i can’t do this.” shuichi whimpered tearfully, grabbing rantaro’s shirt. it was a tux, he noticed. tsumugi probably thought he looked more attractive in it, which would excite the crowds. “ i just want to sleep without nightmares. i just want to talk to the others without thinking i could have done more. dammit, i got kaede killed!” he gasped out the words. rantaro stood there silently, holding him and stroking his hair and listening to all he had to say. “if i had figured things out quicker, i could have saved kokichi and kaito! i could have saved you-“

“don’t.” rantaro let go of shuichi, grabbing his arm and forcing him to meet his eyes. “i made a dumb decision in the killing game, and that’s why i’m dead. it’s nothing you did. and besides…” rantaro gave him a grim smile. “nobody’s actually dead. we’re all okay.”

“everyone wishes they were dead,” shuichi whispered. rantaro looked away: shuichi wasn’t wrong, exactly. without the talents, the backstories, the personalities, who were they, really? just characters. just patients of apathetic therapists. kaede had no hope left, kirumi didn’t have a purpose, and korekiyo had attempted suicide nine times within four months. kaito couldn’t talk to anyone for weeks, gonta took out his anger on bugs, kiibo was having a serious identity crisis, and maki fell into a depression because there was nothing there for her anymore. rantaro was exhausted all the time; he was too tired to actually have emotions. he used to be on suicide watch in the past games, according to some information kokichi found (everyone was concerned and the purple-haired boy still had his stealth), but now he’s just too numb to try anything. 

shuichi... shuichi was lost. his identities clashed constantly, and he couldn’t sleep without watching himself be murdered over and over and over and  _ laughing.  _ wet dreams about gore, and then breaking down in the morning because that couldn’t be the person he was.

tsumugi didn’t tell that many lies during the finale of v3, but there was a clear fallacy in one of her statements:

none of them could have ever signed up for this. 

team danganronpa knew this, but they kept sending them to the press like sacrificial lambs. the fifteen victims struggled to understand themselves. so instead they lived for others, their only purpose being to help each other. shuichi couldn’t count the amount of times he walked in on miu having a flashback to when she was raped by a ‘fan’, or tenko struggling to breathe as people kept asking questions about her gender identity and staggering relationship with himiko. tsumugi had shown kaito as being a rude and terrible person, but in the end, he was trying like everyone else. if he was really cruel, would he have gone to a brutal interview to save maki from doing it instead? kaede was a cynical bitch, but she gave shuichi a hug and kiss on the cheek when he woke up from a nightmare. shuichi loved murder and death and  _ despair _ , but he…

he...

he started crying again, avoiding rantaro’s eyes.

“ten minutes!” an overenthusiastic voice calls from a different room. rantaro pulled shuichi into another tight, desperate hug, mumbling assurances to him. as shuichi stood there, shaking, the other stars walked into the room. immediately, shuichi felt a grounding hand on his shoulder from who he infers was maki, judging by the delicacy and paleness of the fingers. when he looked up, he noticed that the others were in a similar place as he was mentally.

angie had red eyes and was uncomfortably fiddling with her skimpy outfit as tenko tried to reassure her that nobody would see the bruises on her body. gonta and kaito stood in the corner, their fists clenched like they wanted to massacre the stage crew, but a touch of sympathy for the others in their eyes. kiibo tried to get ryoma to put out his cigarette, but it was in vain (and maki stared at it longingly). shuichi saw kirumi approach him awkwardly, holding out a pack of fruit gummies. he took it with a quiet thank you, taking a bite of the snacks with all-too cheerful colors.

for a second, he felt like a kid again.

“i wish they gave us fucking scripts,” ryoma grumbled angrily, his voice rough from the smoke. “i don’t know what i can and can’t say.”

“it’s easy!” kokichi plastered on a very fake grin and threw on a goofy accent, “just don’t mention the depression, drug use, suicide attempts, gender dysphoria…”

“eating disorders?” maki suggested. kaito’s eyes flickered to her in concern, a small frown appearing on his face.

angie scoffed, her voice empty without an accent, “getting disowned by family…”

“not knowing if you’re actually a human being or not,” kiibo commented.

“hate mail saying you should have died?” himiko yawned. shuichi hated how bored and numb she looked: she didn’t care about anything anymore.

“oh, and saying you wake up screaming is a no-no,” shuichi added, almost as a reminder to himself. rantaro squeezed his shoulder. 

“...just pretend like you aren’t an actual human being for sixty minutes!” kokichi concluded, his eyes betraying how sad he actually was.

“oh, and when you talk, hype up all the relationships!” tenko looked at himiko, her expression a mixture of fierce love and anger. “because telling people who laughed at your death that you’re dating someone is a surefire way for the relationship to go to hell! y’know, letting things develop naturally and healthily is what killed the fucking dinosaurs!”

“we’ll get through it,” himiko said quietly, her voice soothing.

“...i know.” something told shuichi that she was lying.

“i wish i could punch tsumugi in the face.” kaito punched his other hand, as if he was imagining her swirling blue eyes and tiny glasses in its place. “give her a taste of her own medicine.”

“i don’t even get how she’s still employed,” kaede’s voice was cold. “like, she did a really shitty job of running the show to the point that it actually got cancelled. i mean, in the end, shuichi still won? kokichi was a way better mastermind.”

“right? like where’s my paycheck?” there were quiet laughs at his comment.

“...well, it’s not like we can change things. yet.” rantaro sighed. shuichi glanced at him in worry: the ‘yet’ simultaneously inspired him and scared him.

if rantaro was numb, hopeless, and empty, god knows what dangerous things he’d do to save the others.

“one minute, folks!” the voice called out.

“dammit.” maki muttered.

“... a hug for luck?” kaede proposed.

everyone stepped forward, opening their arms and wrapping them around each other. nobody was blind to the way that some of them cried; korekiyo let out a few tears against kaito’s hair, and tenko was wiping rivulets off of himiko’s face. shuichi rested his head on miu’s shoulder, who was holding kiibo’s hand. there was a reassuring hum hanging in the air: they may not have been the best of friends in the simulation, but they were there for each other now. through the strained relationships, panic attacks, and dark thoughts, they were together. 

eventually, everyone had to let go of each other. they felt the warmth and brief comfort disappear, and shuichi shut his eyes as he heard the footsteps of tsumugi shirogane resonate through the room.

“hey guys! it’s time for the lights, camera, action!” she almost squeaked as she spoke happily, “god, i am so excited! i’m proud of you guys too, you’ve gotten me a promotion since we last talked!” her words were met with silence. “well… let’s go! the audience won’t wait much longer.”

“it’s showbiz,” rantaro whispered, reaching out and squeezing shuichi’s hand. 

kokichi’s voice was shaky. “it’s just showbiz. quick, brief showbiz.”

shuichi looked up and noticed that there was a single tear running down kokichi’s face. hesitantly, he moved his hand to wipe it away. the smile he received was pained, but genuine.

_ lights, camera, action.  _

_ lights, camera, action. _

“oh god.”

3, 2, 1

**“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE’RE HERE TO CELEBRATE THE ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF DANGANRONPA!”**

it’s just showbiz.

**Author's Note:**

> well, the v3 ending is growing on me, surprisingly. i don’t really hate it any more, i’m just not a huge fan of the v3 plot line all in all. but who cares lmao.
> 
> anyway, i have so many headcanons for post v3 that it’s absurd. i’ve already got some other parts of this written out, so we got a series bois. but i’m also planning on doing a long chaptered fic of a completely different headcanon. sorry folks. 
> 
> also sorry about the weird ship content. this is saimami, which will be more clear in the other parts.
> 
> comments are appreciated.


End file.
